The vulture was originally a humble old bird, and rather stupid. His plumage was not exceptionally beautiful, but quite passable. One day, however, the noticed that his feathers were falling off. He consulted other birds, who told him that he was merely moulting and new feathers would grow later. But the vulture was pessimistic, and soon became thin and sickly with worry about his plumage. At last the other birds took pity on him, and each gave him a feather to stick on his body. When all the birds had given him their feathers, the vulture looked a wonderful bird with a plumage of all colours.

The vulture now became conceited. He strutted about in his borrowed feathers, and declared that he was the most beautiful of all the birds. He became more and more proud until he asked the birds to recognise him as their king. At this insolence, the birds pecked off not only the feathers that they had given the vulture but also the vulture's own feathers. So when the birds had finished with him, the vulture looked old and ugly and bald. That is why even today the vulture is a sour and ugly old bird.